𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐈𝐄 ━━ finnick odair ✓

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲-𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞. ( face the music )

  A snort of disgust pulls me quite rudely from my moment of bliss. I turn abruptly to find Wade on her own porch, hanging clothes to dry on a clothesline. She makes no move to pretend she wasn't watching me, instead maintaining latched eye contact while she pins a blouse to the string. An urge within me tries to force me to back down, to look away and go back inside where her gaze can't follow. I challenge that urge.

"Why do you hate me?" I ask, clear and loud.

"Do you have time for the itemized list?" She responds without hesitation.

This response ignites doubt in my plan. I had assumed my bold gesture of asking would have driven her away. It certainly would have driven me away.

"I have the entire day," I level back. Certainly one of us will concede.

"Then come on over, sweetheart." Her words are almost sneers.

On stiff legs, I bridge the gap to her identical stairs. She gestures for me to sit in one of the wicker chairs that flank a small coffee table. I sit obediently, and she sits in the other.

"So?" I ask, though I feel I might regret it.

"You, Miss Jones, are an entitled, stuck up, cowardly, inappropriately righteous, little brat." She nods after she finishes.

"I thought you said it would be extensive," I challenge, jutting my chin out.

"Oh I'm not done. You seem to relish in the knowledge that you're able to tout your persona of the sweetheart victor over the rest of us. Seeing you prance around in frilly little dresses always made me sick, but I figured your effect would wear off eventually. It hasn't." She rakes an appraising eye over my pajamas. "You may not have used your hands to kill the other tributes, but make no mistake that you were a part of their deaths. That District 10 boy might have made it to victory if you hadn't abandoned him to the career girl in that moment."

"I... I was scared," I supply lamely.

"Do you think you were the only one? Of course you do, young people think of nothing but themselves. The world revolves around you, doesn't it?"

"I'm not self centered!" I snap, feeling my temper near boiling over.

"Really? Yet you believe everyone should be sympathetic to your fits and tantrums? Of course, your darling caretaker Finnick should be at your every beck and call. You'll let him coddle you, just until you see fit to take your temper out on him!"

"You know nothing!" I jump up from the chair. My motion flings the tears free from where they had sat welling in my eyes.

I storm down her porch without a second thought. In only a matter of seconds I've yanked my front door open in front of me and slammed it behind me. I'm gasping for my breath and grasping at the wall beside me for balance. My whole face tingles with the effort of gulping down air. The rapid breaths turn quickly to sobs. I slide to the floor and hang my head between my knees. I allow myself to wail freely. My arms wrap themselves around my knees for support.

Finally, the sobbing gives way to crying, then to sniffling, and finally slow deep breaths. Just as all things do, my panic has passed.

How evil that woman must be to force me into such a pathetic state.

But she didn't force me into anything, did she?

I'm the only person in control of my reaction. And for me to react so violently, I admit that there's truth woven into her hurtful words.